you're a story I could get used to telling
by scriptmanip
Summary: One-shot. Naomi, Emily, and Gina have an afternoon chat. AU: Follows '... and the battle began' universe, created by flister.


**Author's note:** Um, hello.

Miss me?

I've missed you all as well!

It may or may not be public knowledge that one Ms **niceoneblondie** and myself have a sort of mutual affinity for **flister** and the genius that is her epic masterpiece: _'...and the battle began.' _We may or may not have spent close to 60 hours, not consecutively or anything [that would be mental, obviously] dissecting the intricacies of that beautiful story.

So, this thing happens where Blondie and I chat about certain aspects of Skins or Skins fic, and then I'm struck with an unwavering: oh fuck, now I've got to write this thing.

It's an ailment from which I cannot be cured, I've realised.

This is all a very long-winded way to say that I've sort of written this thing. And it's based on a line from _'... and the battle began.'_ And, of course, we all know Skins isn't mine, but neither is the inspiration for this fic, which belongs to the incomparable **flister**.

If you've not yet read, for some odd and inconsequential reason, **flister's** entire catalogue ... what the fuck are you waiting for? Go do so immediately.

It's not imperative you read the story prior to reading this, though I've got to insist you DO just because it's fucking brilliant. Oh, and also this tiny one-shot is definitely a **SPOILER** for how the story turns out in the end. So maybe, if you don't want to ruin it for yourself, you should go off and read it first and then come back for my little drabble.

Is this the longest AN I've ever left? Nearly. Christ. I'll put a pin in it now. Off you go.

* * *

_She's not sure that she will but maybe, after a few bottles of wine and a few years have passed, just maybe this will all seem slightly less life-altering than it does now and she'll be able to tell her mum about that time she went out with a girl called Katie and fell madly in love with her twin sister, Emily, before realising that she was never meant to be part of their lives and bowing out gracefully before anyone got seriously hurt._

_* flister, '... and the battle began'_

It's not like it's every day she remembers how this all started. Not so much anymore.

"It's just lovely to finally have you home, is all I'm saying, Naomi. The house has grown so still and quiet, all that empty space. Almost eerie at times, to be honest."

The weather's warmed enough, even in early May, so that Naomi is sat outdoors, across from her mum, in Gina's back garden. Though, honestly, the sun and warmth have absolutely nothing on the climates of Cyprus or Goa – both of which have played host to Naomi and Emily on two different occasions during breaks in term.

Being in Bristol, even sat under a cloudless sky, there's always a threat of pissing rain and grey skies looming, just out of sight.

"Well, Ems and I would be happy to run about from room-to-room, shouting nonsense and obscenities to combat all the quiet, if you like," Naomi offers earnestly, placing her hand atop Gina's on the patio table just as Emily returns with cigarettes.

"You're still a wee, sarcastic cunt, much as you've always been," Gina answers, pulling her hand away to lightly swat at Naomi's. "But, bless you for the suggestion."

Naomi smirks, taking the lit fag Emily's proffered. "Don't mention it."

Gina only smiles in return, tilts her head towards the sky, and closes her eyes to the sun.

It's after the second bottle's gone empty, and Emily's offered like a fucking saint to nip to the shop for more, that Gina decides to dredge it up: the unspoken past of Naomi's formative years. One that feels fucking lifetimes away.

Naomi quickly lights another fag, stalling pathetically, but then the back door opens, and Emily appears like a saviour.

"Oh, thank fuck you're back," Naomi exhales, watching as Emily makes her way across the lawn.

"Oh Naomi, don't be so dramatic," Gina chides, lazily finishing the last of her own glass.

"Yeah, keep your knickers on then," Emily grins as she approaches the table, holding two chilled bottles of white wine, and squinting from the sun since she's left her sunglasses back in London, and hasn't stopped pouting about it since.

"I'm not being funny, Ems, really, but you _cannot_ leave me alone with her ever again," Naomi says, reaching out for Emily's waist with one hand as she stands next to Naomi's chair. "Particularly without wine."

"Well, I left you with half a bottle, didn't I?" Emily asks, arching one eyebrow in Naomi's direction while setting the two fresh bottles onto the table.

Naomi only half-stutters, since she can rarely speak once Emily's given her _that look_, and finds herself smiling guiltily up at her girlfriend instead.

"Oh bless you, dear," Naomi's mum coos to Emily. "My glass has just gone dry, and you know I find the company of my daughter extremely difficult without libations."

Emily laughs, as she twists off a bottle cap and begins to pour. "That makes two of us then."

"You're supposed to me on _my_ side," Naomi pouts, even through the side of her mouth once Emily's sat beside her.

But Emily only grins while tilting her glass towards her mouth. "Sorry."

"Go on then," Gina prods again, just when Naomi had begun to think that her mum had been derailed from her intrusive line of questioning. "I've waited long enough to hear all the sordid details."

"Christ, mum," Naomi groans, placing her head in one hand and closing her eyes. "It's hardly sordid."

"What did I miss?" Emily asks, leaning towards Naomi and nicking her half-finished fag.

Naomi's smile is rather forced when she looks over at her, explaining through that disingenuous smile, "Mum's requested to hear the story on how we – well, how it is that we, um – I mean, how we sort of—"

Emily's eyes go wide. "Is this about _sex?_"

Naomi's laugh is loud and unexpected at Emily's horrid expression, and her mum's laughter sounds a bit like Naomi's as they both echo one another for several seconds.

"No," Naomi finally manages, and Emily's face relaxes. "Not exactly."

"Sorry, no offense or anything," Emily then says, looking a bit meekly to Gina, "but it's just that, well, I wouldn't really be surprised."

Gina, looking quite pleased with the inference, simply shakes her head. "Oh, it'd take a lot more than that to offend me. But, no, it isn't the shagging I'm interested in – got the internet to answer questions on that, haven't I?"

Naomi actually feels her face flush, where she's placed a hand to her forehead. "_Mum!_ Seriously – gross."

"What I'd like to know," Gina continues, speaking over Naomi's outburst, as if she hasn't just admitted to researching lesbian sex on the fucking internet, "is why my daughter spent nearly four years in a somewhat tumultuous if not committed relationship with a girl called Katie, only to flee to Spain, at the end of it, from Katie's twin sister."

"Oh." Emily swallows, watches Naomi from over the rim of her wine glass. "That story."

"Yeah," Naomi answers. "Hence my desperation for the bloody wine."

Emily looks apprehensive, or uncomfortable, or just _something_ for fleeting seconds, but then seems to recover quickly enough, finishing off the rest of her wine in one go, and then she's grinning at Naomi and folding her hands in her lap. "Right, well, go on then."

Naomi's face goes incredulous at first, but then she's rolling her eyes and thinks: _fuck it._

"Fine, I guess it all started with the way Katie's arse looked in those skirts we wore in secondary."

Emily backhands Naomi's bicep even as her mum's chastising with an appalled, _'Naomi.'_ But then Naomi just giggles in-between sips of wine.

She can only defend herself through her laughter while Emily continues scowling. "Well, you _asked_."

"You're such a prick," Emily pouts, even as she lets Naomi take her hand and lace their fingers together so that they hang between the patio chairs. "Sometimes, I've honestly no idea why it is I stick around."

"Because you love me?" Naomi suggests, eyebrows raised hopefully, and her tone already sounds somewhat pissed from the wine.

But it's enough. It's always been enough. She's only got to remind Emily what it is that they share – what it is that they've _always_ shared, with each other and no one else – and Emily can't stop her lips from curling up.

And so, Naomi starts in again, dutifully regaling her mum with the story of how it is she came to know Katie and Emily Fitch, and the ensuing saga that was her teenaged years. She's a bit kinder when explaining certain details, because all laughs aside, it's not really Naomi's intent to hurt Emily by reliving those moments of her past with Katie. Still, she tells her mum nearly all of it. She tells her how Katie drew her in, how she kept her latching on, like some kind of addiction.

"Really, all that time, and you never knew?" Gina asks, nodding towards Emily who only smiles bashfully, and Naomi thinks if she still wore a fringe, she'd be hiding behind it.

Because it's a bit ridiculous, obviously, that Naomi couldn't see it for so long.

And it's something Naomi thinks about sometimes, even now – it's something she's learnt, something she's memorised – the way Emily's love is so bloody apparent just by the glint in her eyes. Or the curve of her lips when she's watching Naomi from across a room. And so the fact that there was a time when Naomi couldn't see it, when she didn't know it, seems impossible.

Like those drawings that Emily loves that are optical illusions or something, seeing first a rabbit but then at second glance, it's some woman in an old hat, and once you've seen it, adjusted your sight or whatever, you can't ever _un_see it.

Naomi knows it'll be like this with Emily now. She'll not ever look at her without seeing everything.

"No, I don't think I did," Naomi sort of muses, looking to Emily as if searching for some lost memory. "Not for a long time anyway. Afraid to tell you, you raised a rather oblivious twat, mum."

"Oh, well that much I already knew, dear."

Emily keeps hold to Naomi's hand, and she stays mostly quiet, refilling Naomi's glass when it's gone empty because Naomi drinks really quickly, particularly when she's rambling. Naomi stutters a bit, stumbles over her explanations from time to time – trying to decide between which words are right and which are wrong – still feeling completely inept when it comes to the twins, when it comes to speaking about them in tandem.

But then Naomi will feel the way Emily's fingers twitch against her own, and she's reminded that it won't ever matter how she speaks about Katie, about being _with_ Katie, because in the end – and, really, even from the very beginning, she's realised – it's only Emily that matters. Only Emily, and being with her.

So when Naomi talks about her first kiss being with Katie, and how it essentially confirmed a host of speculations Naomi had been harbouring about herself, Emily fake gags into her wine glass, and Naomi just laughs lightly. The smile they share afterward is Naomi's way of saying so many things that her mum actually _doesn't_ need to know.

Like how her first kiss with Katie meant: right, I'm definitely gay.

But that her first kiss with Emily meant: fucking hell, I'm definitely _in love_ and probably screwed forever.

By the time Naomi twists open the fourth bottle, even Gina seems pretty off her tits, and Naomi is having a hard time talking about how Emily told her she loved her at that horrendous Love Ball without also feeling the constant urge to drag Emily upstairs and tear her clothes off.

Emily must see it, the way Naomi's eyes keep dropping to their joined hands or simply lingering on Emily's mouth, because her eyes look really, fucking dilated too, so that Naomi almost can't finish her sentence while staring into them.

Whatever it is she's meant to be explaining to her mum just trailing off into the warm, afternoon air.

"Gina, if you don't mind, I think I could use a nap," Emily interjects softly, smiling innocently. "All this wine and sun has made me fucking knackered."

"Oh, I suppose I've taken up enough of your time, loves," Gina sighs, and Naomi practically trips over her own feet getting up from the table.

"Yeah, thanks for the wine, mum. It's been a well lovely chat, but I think we'll just – lie down for a bit." Naomi pulls at Emily's hand until they're both stood, tilting into each other for support.

Gina's eyes are sparkling, even as she eyes them both sceptically. "Why do I always feel the two of you are only ever telling me a fraction of the truth?"

Naomi only laughs in response, leaning down to kiss her mum's cheek, flushed pink from so much wine.

"We'll be back down for supper, alright?"

Emily just barely crashes through the bedroom door before Naomi's all over her, her limbs slowed and clumsy, but persistent just the same. And they're both laughing, breathless from the climb up the stairs, but kissing sloppily anyway.

"Did you enjoy that trip down memory lane then?" Emily asks, brushing hair from Naomi's face and staring into the misty blue of her eyes, which have gone a shade darker.

Naomi presses her lips to Emily's, feels them slide into place, and tries to remember how it is she ever lived without this sensation.

Emily's eyes are still closed for quick seconds as Naomi pulls away, whispering close to Emily's lips, "Not as much as I'm going to enjoy this next one."

And Emily only laughs more freely as Naomi tugs on her tee shirt until Emily falls forward, landing them both in a pile of limbs onto Naomi's old bed.

* * *

**post script:** I do always love hearing from you lot so go on then, stop by to say hello ;)


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